Ivory
by Imyoshi
Summary: Luck truly did favor the fools.
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of Kim Possible and RWBY.

* * *

 **Ivory**

 **By: Imyoshi**

Death was a lot like living.

There was no special place for the good and bad. All souls were weighted equal. Sooner or the later, the souls would be reincarnated if they so choose or they could remain in the realm every soul was sent to. No burning forever or eternal peace. None of that. Either they wait to be sent to a new life or be stuck here to watch over others. Those were the only choices given.

In all, death was overrated.

Sitting on an pristine white bench that sunk effortlessly into the floor, and unknowingly waiting for the Grim Reaper to claim his soul to send him to Monty knew where, Jaune Arc stared off at the plains of pure nothingness that stretched on for miles and miles beyond his gaze. Everything was so white and boring. Not to mention he was still stuck in the same outfit he had died in. Who knew how long he'd been sitting here on this lone bench. Seconds? Minutes? Hours! Years!

And seriously? A bench? What was he waiting for? A bus to whoosh him away to the Great Byond?

Counting down the endless seconds, he heard the soft thumps of footsteps coming from behind, and he looked over his shoulder to see another blond walking toward the bench, eyes sadden from most likely dying. Jaune couldn't blame him. His eyes probably looked the same.

He took a seat right beside him, kicking his cargo covered legs out and resting one arm along the side of the bench, quiet as a mouse. There was a distinct silence that was both eerie and comforting at the knowledge of both of them being dead. It was nice not being alone when there was nothing for miles and any color helped immensely. Though they both could do without the bench being so tiny since they're practically touching shoulder-by-shoulder, but apparently death wasn't fair, either.

The minutes pass by—at least it felt like that—and the silence grew deafening. Time and aging didn't seem to matter here. Nothing matter in this white void. Kind of overrated, but they passed cliché back in the living world. Eventually, the Arc found the courage to talk.

"So... how'd you die?"

Blinking, the stranger titled his head at him for a moment, mystified by his calm voice, before shrugging with a light but forced smile. "I pushed my friend away from an explosion. You?"

Jaune smiled tiredly as well. "A monster ate me."

Sitting straight up, he pushed his hand out, happy for a change. "The name's Ron Stoppable. But you can just call me Ron."

Jaune reached out. "Jaune Arc. And Jaune's just fine."

Feeling a sense of peace, the sidekick's eyes light up a bit. Call it sidekick curiosity. "So... a monster ate you? How does _that_ happen? That's definitely a new one in my playbook."

Remembering the monster and all its glory, Jaune grinned in a warrior sort of way. "You know what a Grimm is, right?" Ron shook his head. "What?! How can you not know what a Grimm is?"

He shrugged. "Never heard of them."

"But the Grimm are the greatest threat against Remnant and humanity. How could you not know about them?" Jaune was absolutely amazed that someone knew nothing about the Grimms. It vexed him. Even a potato like him knew about them.

Ron answered his question with another. "What's Remnant?"

All of Jaune's confusion grew three sizes that day. What kind of ridiculous question was that? He had to stop himself from choking out in paranoia. This had to be a joke.

"What do you mean _what's Remnant_? That's the planet we live on. Hello! Did you forget that? They teach you that as a kid!"

All the pieces came together for Ron, finally forming that puzzle he'd been trying to solve. He laughed for his new friend's stumbling. "Oh? I get it now. You see, I'm from Earth. That's the planet where I'm from. And there we don't have any Grimm."

Stunned for a bit, Jaune relaxed on the bench, unable to believe that Ron came from a different planet. Made sense why he'd never heard of the Grimm before, but still. He had questions. "You're pretty calm after hearing I'm from a different world."

He shrugged again. What else could he do? "I'm use to things that sound out of this world. And being dead kind of robs away the _wow_ factor. You know what I mean?"

Jaune did, he truly did. For a moment—a small insignificant moment—there was a sense of peace in him. It brought back the light to his eyes. It made his soul thump and his pride roar. Most of all, the few regrets he garnered to vanished.

"Yea, I do. So, anyways, I was practicing my swordplay to become a Huntsman in my family's backyard, and then a Grimm came out of nowhere and... I wasn't strong enough."

"That tanks."

Jaune laughed at his own death. "What are you gonna do?" Waving a stray hair away from his eye, he ultimately asked the faithful question. "So... why were you and your friend near an explosion?"

His turn to hear an answer, Ron got up from the bench, proud of his friend. "Would you believe me if I told you that my friend and I are a crime-fighting duo? Or _were_ a crime-fighting duo."

Jaune noted the dude in front of him, studying his choice of wardrobe. Ron had on a black shirt that connected with his grey cargo pants. A pair of dark-grey gloves. Hair messy beyond reason and chocolate eyes. He didn't look like much of a fighter, but appearances could be deceiving. Just look at him! Uh? Tall, blond, and scraggly anyone? And what was the point in lying when they're already dead?

Never judging a book by its cover, Jaune shrugged.

"Sure..." he believed, finding his presence comforting. Misery did love company. "So you pushed your friend away from an explosion and died. Not a bad way to go. Definitely better than mine."

"Yea." Ron hummed, sitting back down on the bench. He grinned at a thought, feeling a tad jealous for the dumbest of all reasons. "But your death sounds a lot more badical! I'm jealous."

"Badical?"

He waved a hand lazily in the air. "It's radical and bad put together. Makes the words sound way more awesome."

Before Jaune could even think of a response, a dark mass of smoke appeared before them from the floor, slowly condensing and becoming a large, tall cloak figure that had a layer of never-ending dark Aura coming from beneath its cloak. Nothing could be seen through its cloak opening, except for a pair of blood red eyes that seemed to never waver or blink. Unlike the Grimm's crimson orbs, these lacked any kind of emotion and showed no reserved judgement.

Neither of the two say anything for a long second, then Ron laughed without any emotion, busy rubbing his neck in awkward silence. There was fear behind his smile, and Jaune wondered if he knew about this creature right in front of him. He was sort of really hoping Ron did because this monster was practically giving him a heart attack on the spot. It towered over any living human, if the Arc could even call it that.

"S-S-So I'm guessing you're the Grim Reaper?" Ron asked, scared a bit from the massive cloak skeleton. It nodded its head, magically calling forth a scythe from times long forgotten.

"Grim Reaper?" Jaune repeated, finding some of his anger to be directed toward Ron. "What do you mean Grim Reaper? Didn't you just tell that you didn't know what a Grimm is? What type of Grimm is this?!"

Catching the confusion, Ron shot his arms out. "Whoa! Whoa! Calm down. On Earth we believe that when you die, you meet the Grim Reaper. He's supposed to be some giant, freaky skeleton dude, wearing some ominous black cloak, and who wields a creepy scythe! Not some Grimm, well—actually? Are you a Grimm?" The reaper slowly shook its head. "See! Not a Grimm!"

Looking back between Ron and this _Grim_ Reaper, Jaune slowly moved his hand back and forth between the two. "So what you're telling me is that you're the Grim Reaper, but not a Grimm?" He got a slow nod of the head and Jaune fell back lifelessly on the bench. "This is all so confusing."

"What's so confusing about—?"

Watching them argue, the Grim Reaper couldn't help but stare at the two mortals in front of him. One minute they went from fearing its presence immensely, and the next they're casually debating whether or not if it was one of those creatures without souls. Truly, these two were unique.

For the first time in countless centuries, the reaper tilted its head at the mortals before it, wondering when their argument would soon end. Contrary to popular belief, Death was in no hurry to stop them. Breaks every now and again mattered little to an immortal being, but were still welcomed nonetheless.

Making a gesture on an invisible box with his hands, Ron tried to futilely explain a concept he knew next to nothing of while Jaune absorbed the knowledge like a depraved sponge. Death eventually started to count down the concept of time the mortals created, landing on a number they called ten before moving slowly toward the distracted blonds, scythe out and ready to reap their souls.

"So what you're saying..." Jaune puzzled, bringing his palms down in a rectangle-like shape. "Is that the Grimm Reaper is not a Grimm, but the embodiment of life and death? And it sends you to the Great Beyond after you die?"

Ron grinned, proud of his teaching skills. "That's the general gist of it."

"How do you even _know_ that?"

"It's..." he stretched, thinking hard at where he heard about the Grim Reaper. "It's just something you pick up randomly on Earth. Everyone knows about the Grim Reaper, but no one knows if it actually exists. But look!" Ron gestured to the dark-hooded being, arms out. "It's real! Case closed!"

When the gravity of the sitch hit them again, they look back the Grim Reaper, emotions varied. Jaune felt fear start to creep back on him. Ron began to experience fear once more. Through their little talk, it seemed that they actually forgot that Death was standing above them, waiting patiently.

Talk about weird.

Mustering up some courage, Jaune twiddled his fingers. "So, what happens now?"

Remaining motionless for a few seconds, Death slowly extended its cloak out and a deep, dark portal appeared before them. Then Death motioned for them to enter with its scythe. Neither of them could see inside the realm, but neither of the teens had a choice, a strange gravitational force seemed to be pulling them in.

Fighting back the force in a weak effort, Ron snapped his fingers and threw his hands out. "Wait! Wait! Hold on!" he remembered, thanking all the times he'd zoned out in front of the TV. "Don't we get a second chance to come back or play for our souls or something?"

"Playing for our souls? Come back?" Jaune repeated, glad the pulling force suddenly stopped. And he was honestly now interested. "What are you talking about?"

"I saw it in a movie once. If we play a game against Death and win, he'll give us back our lives!"

Never once doubting the credibility of a movie, Jaune and Ron hesitantly stared at Death, waiting for the Grim Reaper's verdict. Time passed by in what seemed like an eternity, before it looked like Death grudgingly willed away the portal to summon up some age-worn contract from the floor from whence it stood.

The ancient paper unfolded itself and the text hovered toward the dead teens. Slowly, Ron grabbed the parchment and read over the ancient words while Jaune silently waited for his new friend's final word. Just the thought of coming back sounded too good to be true. Maybe he could still become a Huntsmen! Maybe his life wasn't over yet?

All he could do was hope.

Finally, Ron turned to Jaune, holding the contract out for him to see the worn print.

"It says if we win, then we're not allowed to talk about what happens here or Death will reap our souls. No question. And if we lose, we'll stay trapped here in Limbo. But if win, we can go back?" Death shook its head, looking to Ron and pointing a bony finger toward to a section in the contract and rules. Sadly, the immortal being felt remorse for such a pure soul.

Ron read the section and his eyes widen sadly. Jaune grabbed his shoulder at his unusual silence. Silence didn't seem to fit into Ron's personality at all. "What's wrong?"

The sidekick ran a hand through his hair, falling back on the bench. "It says anyone who purposely gives up their life cannot go back to their world."

Trying to find the punch line, the Arc recalled the differences between their deaths. He had been killed against his will, while Ron had—!

"Wait a minute! That's not fair!" Jaune yelled, checking the clause. The hope he just got was already being crushed.

Ron, however, merely waved him off. "It's cool, dude. I'm fine marinating here." He smiled wistfully at a thought, forced or not. "I don't regret giving my life to save Kim's. I know that she'll be fine. She's strong like that."

"Kim?"

"My best friend!" Ron proudly declared, counter to the current grim sitch, even if he was dead inside. But it had always been easier for him to hide his emotions than show them. Even in the face of Death. However, Ron still had his hero pride residing in his soul for however long left he had that. "And even if I can't go back to my world, as a good guy, I'm willingly to help you. You can call it my last act of kindness."

Hearing and still unable to believe Ron's kind words, Jaune, perhaps at what were his last moments, finally glimpsed at what a true hero looked like. Selfless! Brave! And most of all, determined. Everything that he was mostly not. Not entirely without default. He was determined. But how much was still to be truly tested. Ron was just selfish because he was like that.

But still.

"I don't know? What are the odds of us actually beating Death, anyways? It's Death!" Jaune argued, falling back on the small bench. He stared up at the impressive Grim Reaper before him, feeling a great amount of power radiating from it. Maybe it would be better to simply pass on. Why risk it for a billion to one chance? "... It's impossible."

There were no more words for what felt like an eternity as Jaune let his head hang back on the bench. Then, without so much as a warning, Ron finally sighed, finding some hidden courage. The very same courage and determination he used to save Kim's life.

"Nothing's impossible."

"Hn?" Jaune hummed, hearing for the first time his new friend's confident voice.

Standing up, the sidekick pulled the Arc up, glaring right at Death's impassive appearance. "If there's anything I learned during my life—anything at all! It's that _nothing_ _is impossible_!"

Silence echoed in the endless realm and Jaune quickly understood the meaning behind Ron's words. Even still, the Arc was doubtful. "You honestly think we can win against Death?"

Ron, for the first time, looked at Jaune with nothing short of confusion. "What? You don't?"

That stopped Jaune Arc dead in his tracks.

Jaune wasn't some crime-fighter who died for a noble goal. He was a teenager who got in way over his head and decided to practice late at night without his family around to spot the Grimm before it was too late. What chance did he—did _they_ have at winning? The Grim Reaper just screamed out ultimate power. The monster was taller than any other person he'd ever seen and the constant mass of darkness coming from beneath its cloak did nothing to soothe his troubled soul.

Nothing!

But? But what if? Just what if? If even for the smallest glimmer of hope, what if some margin of chances existed within the realm of possibility? Could they beat the Grim Reaper with hopeless optimism? Could they beat the impossible odds? Jaune wasn't remotely close to a hundred percent, but his friend was more than ready to gamble the odds.

If what Ron had said was true, nothing was impossible. A crazy and optimistic idea of course! Some things were simply impossible. No question. But Ron was willingly to throw his life away for a small glimmer of hope. All for a total stranger like him. One who couldn't even beat a Grimm when he had the home field advantage? What chance did they have fighting the Grimm Reaper on _its_ home field advantage?

Hopeless optimism aside, coming back to life sounded too good to simply pass up.

Thinking of the idea of his family finding his dead body in their very backyard frightened Jaune. He could already hear his mother and sister's cries of agony and sorrow. He felt his father's anger and guilt for not being there to save his son.

The guilt would tear his family apart.

A mother's sorrows? A father's grief? And his sisters' tears were in his wake. Jaune Arc would try anything to prevent that future. And now with a silver lining hanging over his head, did he have the courage to risk it all? Could he truly risk everything on chance? On the slim, slim, _slim_ odds that they could actually beat the Grim Reaper? An unbeatable Grimm Ron had so eloquently put it, even if said Grim wasn't actually a Grimm?

In the end, his soul had already decided for him.

He couldn't abandon his family when there was even the smallest of chances he could come back. Hopeless as this might all be, he promised his sisters he would become a hero. An Arc never went back on their word.

Not even in death!

"Well, if I want to become a Huntsmen, then I was gonna have to fight a Grimm during some point in my life. It's our sworn duty!" Glaring for the first time at the embodiment of life and death, Jaune smirked carefully. "And I can't think of a better place to start than with the Grim Reaper itself! Let's do this!"

"Booyah!" Ron returned the smirk, staring at Death with _unstoppable_ determination. He raised a finger toward the ancient contract. "We accept the terms! Since it's not one-on-one, it's best two out of three! Bring it!"

Taking a very long pause, Death eventually, as slowly as possible, grabbed the contract, unable to make out the mystery of the two mortals standing before it. And for a moment, just a quick insignificant moment, it ever so slightly tilted its head, perplexed in infinite query.

Challenging the Grim Reaper and beating Death was practically an impossible feat all on its own. So when two mortals challenged it on the belief that nothing was impossible and that it was their sworn duty to fight the Grimm—Death, for the first time in countless eons, didn't know what to make of it.

Rolling up the parchment, Death tapped its scythe on the ground a few times and the two teens watched the entire white realm around them begin to show color and start to deform to a totally new realm. Then, without so much as a warning, the Grim Reaper extended out its bony hand out toward the two, motioning them to look up.

 _Choose your game!_

...

So Ron went first.

The game he selected—which Jaune had to take part of unfortunately—involved dodging and running to the highest caliber. It had something to do with Ron's mad running away skills he so called it. So the two of them, plus Death, dodged obstacles that magically appeared from any angle conceivable. Objects that ranged from dodge balls, to wrenches, to the occasional car and even tree. The last one to be knocked down was the winner. A simple game with simple rules that was anything _but_ simple.

At first, Jaune noticed Ron dodging all the incoming objects with some practical ease, though his screams every now and then didn't help much in the confidence department. Still, Ron dodged like a true pro. Of course he had nothing on Death who seemed to glide effortlessly away from the objects, going so far as using its scythe to push away some of the objects.

Jaune, on the other hand, could dodge relatively fine, but he didn't have the built in the stamina they did, nor coordination, and he was quickly tiring out.

Sliding beneath a lone table heading for his direction, his hoodie got snagged on one of the corners of the table, and he instinctively turned and tossed the table before it could bring him down. The table flew through the air, toward the Grim Reaper, and Death was forced to use its scythe to cut the table in half. For the very first time, since the game started, it actually showed a sign of struggle after it just dodged a stray lamp coming for its head.

Watching the entire ordeal, Jaune got a sudden idea. The rules of the game had been simple. The last one standing was to be the winner. Only one of them had to be standing to win this game. In other words, there weren't any other rules! Anything went! He felt a plan brewing.

Running up to Ron while dodging a stray plank of wood, Jaune slid up to him, tapping the sidekick on the shoulder. Ron blinked, narrowly sidestepping a bowling ball. "What's up?"

"Ron!" Jaune coughed, out-of-breath. "I've got a plan."

Widening his eyes, Ron pulled Jaune away before a safe could crash into him. "I'm all ears."

Fluently dodging all the obstacles, Death observed the two mortals away from him, wondering what they're were whispering about. Judging from their sudden restlessness, cunning looks, a stormed brewed in the endless horizon. Not good. Maybe it was high time to step up its game? Losing wasn't on the immortal's lesson plan.

Lazily pushing away a dodge ball, the Grim Reaper slightly tilted his head at the unexpected rush from the two mortals as they made a mad dash toward it. And for a second, just a minuscule second, Death panicked. But the emotion quickly died as it appeared. There was no way these mortals would do something so—?

"Get him!" Ron suddenly roared, catching the same dodge ball Death had pushed away, throwing it forcefully at its direction with Jaune making for a mad dash.

So maybe the mortals were crazy enough to pull of a suicidal stunt.

Gliding away from the dodge ball, Jaune tried to tackle the Grim Reaper down, using himself as a distraction as Ron came up from the side, intent on not letting Death get away. An amusing effort on their part, but not fast or well-thought out enough to catch Death off-guard. They'd have to up their game. Such simple plans would never work on a being unbound by time and space.

Floating away from the two blonds, it watched, as the one named Jaune, extended his arms out to prevent himself from falling, rolling on the floor before standing up with Ron coming up to his side to pull him away from a stray garbage can. They continued this dance for a bit longer, sometimes almost catching Death off-guard. Never to the point that it actually feared for a second that they would succeed. For Death hadn't ever lost a game before, but it would commend their fortitude.

"This isn't working!" Ron huffed, finally feeling exhaustion creeping up on him. Not fair that the bag of bones lacked lungs.

Jaune sighed, resting his palms on his knees with sweat dripping down his face. "I know! But it's all we got." Narrowly dodging an incoming tire, he formed a fist in anger. "Too bad we can't distract him enough. The two of us aren't cutting it. We need like a third person."

Dodging a random ninja kunai, Ron dodged another and caught the last one. His mind reeled at the familiar weapon from his time at Yamanouchi and an idea flickered to life. "Or maybe we need a third friend!"

Not giving Jaune the time to ponder over his words, Ron prayed to whatever force that shined upon him that this would work. Reaching out heroically toward the endless abyss, he concentrated with all his might.

"Please let this work..." Anything was possible, after all! "Lotus Blade! Come to me! I need your help, buddy!"

Nothing happened and Jaune was forced to look behind him when a giant shadow overcame his own. There, he saw a ten foot brick wall coming straight for them, and Ron was still too busy holding his hand out to the endless horizon to be of any help.

"Watch out!" Jaune yelled, closing his eyes, knowing he couldn't dodge that brick wall on time. But when nothing happened, he opened them a moment later when he felt the whoosh of the brick wall pass him, moving his hair to the air. Behind him he could hear the wall crash onto the floor. "What?"

"I'll be honest, I didn't think that work!" Ron grinned from behind, holding a sword that curved upwards and had a distinctive blue coloring and lotus handle. "I guess it really is connected to my soul and junk. Thanks, Sensei!"

"What is that?"

Ron did a cool guy pose, resting the blade on his shoulder. "It's the Lotus Blade! It has the power to turn into any weapon I can imagine! It's from my world!"

Jaune pretended not to think about all the unknown repercussions that quote had. No. Wait? That wasn't right at all. "Wait? Wait! You called that weapon... from your world? How? I-I... ugh!"

Grabbing Jaune before a tree could crush him, Ron pointed at Death. "No time to explain! We've got our third friend."

Jaune decided to push _most_ of his questions aside and only ask one. "And how is that sword going to help us?"

Grinning larger, the sidekick let the sword go and it floated in the air. "Lotus Blade, we're going to need you to distract that big guy over there. Think you could do that?"

Jaune wasn't too sure if he could believe his eyes, but it seemed like the Lotus Blade did a small bow at Ron before hovering and then accelerating at an alarming speed toward the Grim Reaper. Clearly, the embodiment of death hadn't anticipated such a turn of events as it barely dodged the incoming blade. Then, for a split-second, a stray potted plant almost hit Death on the body, and Jaune felt a _morale_ boost coming on.

"Any other bright ideas?" Ron asked, waiting for another one of Jaune's tactical plans.

Watching the Grim Reaper dodge the Lotus Blade and various other objects, Jaune had one idea. A simple, clever idea that normally worked on those too over confident in their own skills. Monty knew how many times he'd fallen for it from his sisters.

"Just one. You said the Lotus Blade could turn into _any_ weapon you imagine? What about _anything_?"

Dodging the magical blade, Death brought its scythe out, ready to cut the Lotus Blade in two. However, the two mortals began charging at it again, dodging the various objects the Between Dimension conjured up. It got ready for them, gliding away from more random objects without an afterthought.

Reaching Death, Ron lunged forward, ready to tackle the entity and Jaune followed closely behind, sliding under another table. Seriously, he was getting tired now and so was his buddy Ron. He hoped this plan worked, they didn't have enough stamina to keep going.

Dodging Ron, Death lazily looked over to Jaune and easily glided away from his as well, but Ron was already back on Death's shadow with the Lotus Blade gripped firmly in his hand. He then transformed the sword into a cloak that he tried to blind Death with. A valiant effort on the mortal's part, but it was all in vain. Sneaking up on Death was impossible.

Grabbing the cloak, it ripped it away from Ron's hand and attempted to push him down onto the floor, thus knocking him out, but Jaune was on his side and there was another table coming from behind him and Death was forced to glide back to avoid the collision.

 _Thump_!

No. It couldn't be.

Looking back, it saw a tiny box below his boney feet and Death started to wobble and tilt back from the unexpected item. It didn't remember seeing that box there before, but it didn't get much time to ponder over the mysterious box. Ron was pushing it down with his very own weight added. The sidekick even had his arms firmly locked upon its cloak, refusing to let go if his life depended on it.

Which, ironically enough, it kind of did.

Clutching the scythe, the Grim Reaper attempted to prevent the fall, but the same table chasing Jaune was now heading toward their direction and fumbled away the scythe. It could see the mortal on the floor, a sure sign of exhaustion, and also a symbol that he was out, but that hadn't stopped him from grabbing the table and chucking it toward their direction at a last ditch effort.

Trying to use the box to stabilize his footing, Death suddenly felt the box disappear in a flash of light, before looking up to Ron's grinning face as that same magical sword hovered beside the sidekick, adding its own force to his own with the appearance of a magical glove.

 _Crash_!

Every object littering the realm flashed away in a bright light. A tally score appeared above them, signaling the end of the event. A score of one appeared under the mortal's names and the Grim Reaper's red eyes slowly blinked for the first time in centuries.

For the first time ever, Death lost a game.

...

Neither Jaune Arc nor Ron Stoppable knew what to expect for Death's game. Maybe some blood-curling, soul-crushing, mind-numbing game where the odds were heavily stacked against them? Or even something so deranged and hectic that naturally giving up was their only option.

Limbo had never even crossed their minds.

Listening to the catchy tune in the air, Death's scythe had been turned into a limbo stick and the game was about to begin. And considering how tall Death was, the limbo bar had been set pretty high to begin with. High enough that it only took the least amount of effort to bend under on the first try.

Something that Ron did.

"That was easy?" Jaune remarked, not sure if Death meant to make the bar so high to begin with. Didn't matter as the being simply waved the bar lower. Not showing any concern, it hovered toward the half lowered bar and did something that neither Jaune nor Ron would ever forget.

"Dude!" Jaune gasped, unable to believe it. "Death just bent ninety degrees!"

"I know." Ron added, grinning a smile of defeat. "I'm impressed."

The bar lowered and Jaune barely managed to limbo under, silently thanking his mother for all those now not so useless dance classes. Though, their hope died when Death lowered the bar impossibly lower to the point of almost touching the ground, yet still managed to limbo under it without so much as a care in the world.

"That's just not right."

Jaune was absolutely certain that even if Death didn't so much as utter a sound as it stood up—creepy—and showed no emotion whatsoever, he was still positive that the Grim Reaper had this smug aura of superiority basking around its depressing frame.

The tally came up and a point went to Death's scoreboard, signaling the end of the game. Even the laws of nature and science knew they lost that game.

...

Waiting for the mortals to pick their last game, the Grim Reaper inspected its scythe, wondering if a new blade might be in order. The weapon had started to lose some of its luster through the years and Death did love a shiny weapon.

A few feet away, Jaune and Ron went over potential games that could tip the scales in their favor. So far they had nothing. The timer above their heads was close to ending. They had been going at this for so long, that a timer had been set.

"Jaune!" Ron waved his hands out. "You have to pick something you're good at!"

"But I'm not good at anything!"

"Everyone's good at something!"

Holding the Lotus Blade, Ron tapped his head with the hilt, wondering what Kim would do. She would probably tell him to go with his strengths, and that was what Ron had done for his game, but it was Jaune's turn to pick. Now, what were Jaune Arc's strengths? Only his friend knew the answer.

"Where do you feel confident in?" Ron asked. "You know, where do you feel in the zone? Where no one else can beat you at? Where you're number one?"

Thinking about it, Jaune rubbed his neck at an embarrassing memory, knowing if there was anything he was great at, it was movement. "Dancing."

"... Come again?"

"Dancing!" he repeated, looking extremely embarrassed at the skill. "I'm really good at dancing."

Tilting his head, Ron looked at the timers above their heads and then Jaune. "How good are you at dancing?"

"I'm better than my seven sisters and my mom."

If that wasn't the universal code for totally badical dancer, Ron would eat his shoes.

"That's perfect!" Ron slid up toward Jaune, grabbing him by the shoulder and swayed his palm out toward the endless horizon. "We could have a dance off!"

"You think we can win?"

He shrugged. "We've come this far, be a shame to stop now."

Jaune couldn't find a reason to object to his friend's overconfident tone, especially since the timer hit zero. "A dance off it is."

...

Summoning up a skeleton audience, Death accepted their challenge and conjured up a dance stage while lowering the realm's lighting, darkening to set the mood. The terms were easy. Whoever got the bigger reaction from the audience won the dance off. Plain and simple.

Spinning a wheel to decide the order, Ron Stoppable was the first to be selected, then Death, then Jaune Arc.

Getting ready, Ron loosened his shoulders, actually looking forward to this, even if his eternal soul was on the line. Nothing like eternal doom to get the blood flowing. He may be scared out of his mind right now, but it was easier to not let the little things get him down. Even if they weren't so little, worrying about them wouldn't do him much good. That was a rule he'd learned from being Kim's sidekick.

Time to show off his bon-diggity dance moves!

"Okay!" he snapped his fingers and the Lotus Blade hovered away. "I'm ready!"

Nodding, Death waved a black mass of magic that condensed before becoming a skeleton DJ that appeared before them, and began mixing a fresh funky beat for Ron to dance to.

Tapping his foot to the rhythm, Ron started slowly with the shrugging of his shoulders, getting into the grove of the current slow tempo. Then the beat accelerated and so did he, back-flipping, he landed on his hands and the lunged forward, sliding on the floor before jumping back up and landing with his feet centered powerfully on the ground. Pushing one hand forward, he moved his arm left to right, nodding his head to the rhythm.

The cheering grew as he began to moonwalk and then spin back, landing in a ninja pose he learned in Yamanouchi, before finishing off with a quick summon of the Lotus Blade to turn into a top hat as he tipped the audience the moment the beat finished.

Hearing the over joyous crowd of skeletons cheering, Ron wouldn't bother wondering how they could scream with no organs, nor would he completely freak out that there were screaming skeletons in the first place. Best not to push Fate. Besides, he was dead.

Walking away, Ron basked in his cheering, wondering what Death had in store to top that.

Glancing at the mortal walking past it, Death hovered over to the center of the stage, allowing the essence of fear to escape from beneath its cloak. Motionless for a moment, Ron and Jaune started to wonder what happened before Death simply outstretched its hand. Then in an awesome show of skill, Death's hand limped down a ninety degree angle and carelessly swung like a pendant before the Grim Reaper used its free arm to push his head back and forth in a rhythmic way.

"No way..." Ron stepped back, already knowing he lost. "Death's doing the robot." And true to the sidekick's words, Death was indeed doing the robot. "Now I've seen everything!"

Bending back with the same skills from the limbo contest, Death began to bend its legs back while using one arm to push its body down, all the while remaining perfecting still and never once faltering to any force of gravity. When it finally reached the floor, without so much as a strain of effort, the Grim Reaper's body lifted forward, all the way to standing position before shooting out both its arms out and letting one forearm dangle while the other did a complete spin in a constant speed.

And to finish it off, Death then bent back again while the skeletons arms continued their robotic motions, never once changing their angle from whence they started, appearing as if Death was a broken plane with one of its propellers no longer working.

The beat then ended and Death had to limbo back up like the force of gravity and the laws of physics didn't affect it in the slightest. They could go to hell for all it cared. It even went as far as to ignore the enormous cheers coming from the other skeletons as it hovered off the dance stage, muted in its victory.

"Well!" Ron sighed, clutching Jaune by the shoulder. "It's all up to you now." Jaune panicked for a moment, wondering if he really had it in him to win. Then, Ron slapped him on the back, smiling confidently at him. "Don't you worry, Jaune! Just dance! Dance like you've never danced before and light up the night!"

Hearing his words, Jaune thought back to his first dance lesson from his mother and his blatant refusal to learn the art. But his mother's words would always be somewhere around, _you never knew when it could come in handy._

Wow! If he didn't believe that now as Death awaited behind the Arc to begin the last dance routine of the match.

Smiling confidently, Jaune pointed one hand toward the air. "Thank you, mom!"

Sliding his feet expertly across the dance floor with the beat, Jaune did a quick one-eighty turn, following up with another jump-turn and moving his hands out in a half-robotic movement, letting makeshift waves pass through them. He then allowed one big wave to travel from one tip of his hand to the very other through his shoulders in a constant wave of motion.

Shrugging his shoulders up and down, Jaune moved his feet forward and back, closing his legs and then reopening them in a constant rhythm while his hands linked together and flexed in some complicated forms of half-robotic and half-aquatic. Then he slid off to the side, doing quick sharp turns with his hands circling over themselves in half an arc of movement.

Shaking his hips, he kicked his feet out before using the soles of his feet to spin into a slow spin, moving parts of his body slower to the other parts, thus allowing him to form even more complicated actions that seemed second nature to him.

In a way, it was like both Ron and Death's dances put into one. And Jaune Arc was killing it.

Not literary. That was Death's job.

"Wow! He's one bon-diggity dancer." Ron awed, clutching the Lotus Blade. "Look at those moves!"

Going for the finish, Jaune copied that moonwalk move from before, slowly bending back as Death had done earlier, and still moving to the beat of the music as he got lower and lower without falter. Finally, he pushed his chest out forward and neck before twisting his body forward and ending with one three-hundred sixty degree spin that had him raise one hand to Monty Oum.

Pure silence filled the room for an eternity before one lone skeleton begins clapping with the rest soon joining in, applauding and cheering louder than ever before. There were flowers and bones being thrown on the stage and Jaune danced his way away from the debris, narrowly missing a femur to the head. Death didn't even have to look up to see the tally drop down and give Jaune Arc and Ron Stoppable their second point, thus concluding them the winner of their bet.

For the first time _ever_ —Death had lost.

Luck truly did favor the fools.

...

Standing back at the white bench where they both met only less than an hour ago, Jaune was having a hard time swallowing everything that had just happened. Everything!

First his death, then befriending a stranger that lived to defy the odds, challenging the Grim Reaper and then beating Death! It was all so much to take in! So much! And after everything they've just been through, everything they fought for, everything that Ron told him, Jaune couldn't accept that Ron would simply give up when it came for the time to say goodbye.

It wasn't fair!

They won!

 _They_ should both be going back home!

Finding the sitch hard as well, Ron almost looked away. "It's fine, Jaune, really! Besides, we won, so I'm not going to be stuck in limbo anytime soon." Death tapped his scythe on the floor, opening up a portal, but stopping midway. "Go back to your family. I'll be fine here. It's time to pass on and all that junk. You go live your life. You've earned it."

"How could you be calm about this?!" Jaune yelled, finding for the first time the urge to hit Ron across the face. "We beat Death and you're okay getting the short end of the stick?"

Knowing his new friend deserved some sort of answer to his reluctance to fight against the contract, he sat down on the bench with Jaune joining, touching shoulders from the unusually small bench. Catching his breath, Ron remembered his death and all the close calls that came before that, and even some that involved Kim.

"Remember how I told you I was part of a crime-fighting duo?" he nodded and Ron sighed, frowning for the first time. "I was the sidekick. Kim was the hero. And as the sidekick, I always just got in Kim's way. I didn't want to get in your way and mess up your chance at going home. That's why I'm not fighting to go home. It's what we sidekicks do."

"I don't care!" Jaune yelled in pure conviction, stunning Ron at his honesty and quick rebuttal. "I don't care if you were the _hero_ or the _sidekick_ or even a damn _cheerleader_! We both did this together! We both won together! It's only fair that we both leave together!" Finding their roles reversed, Jaune was suddenly the confident one. Natural leadership clawed its way out. "I can't leave you behind! It wouldn't feel right!"

"There's nothing I can do, it's in the contract."

Jaune was determined not to give up like how Ron was earlier. "Give me that damn contract!"

Reaching out for the contract in Death's hands, the demigod was slightly amused at how these two mortal souls no longer feared its presences. Truly, odds one they were.

Reading over the ancient lines like Ron's life depended on it—which, ironically, it did—Jaune spotted the sentence with the ruling. He read over the lines a few times, trying to find some hidden loop hole! Anything to help Ron out! Running his mind a mile a minute in the process. And through an act of Monty Oum, Jaune Arc found the one word that could potentially change everything.

"Wait a minute!" Jaune abruptly demanded, poking the contract repeatedly on a mere one sentence. "Death's contract says you can't go back to _your_ world since you gave up your life, but what about mine?" he questioned, hoping. "I'm not from Earth! I'm from Remnant! Two completely different worlds!"

Jaune prayed for the best. Would a modest play on words really work? Could the difference between life and death really be that simple? Might as well give it a shot! They've come this far, why not just a little bit further. Jaune _wasn't_ going to leave Ron behind. Leave no man behind! That was what his father and ancestor before him would've done.

"Go to... your world?" Ron repeated, completely unsure.

"Yea!" grinned Jaune, showing him the wording on the contract. "You can't go back home, but we're from totally different places! You can come to Remnant with me!"

Not allowing his hopes to build just in case of defeat, Ron fought back. "I'll have nowhere to go."

"You can stay with my family!" he promised, making damn sure he keep that promise.

Ron blinked. "Are you sure?"

"Of course! We only won because we worked as a team. Besides..." he looked off to the side awkwardly, laughing with hollowness. "My family could use some more testosterone. We're on short supply."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You'll find out soon!" Jaune sighed, looking up toward the Grim Reaper, fearing its presence once more. "If it's okay?"

Death didn't answer for a long time, glaring down at the two mortals that had bested him. The silence was cold and deadly, and it was only through the slow movement of pulling the scroll away from Ron's hands that it proved it was still with them. Then, appearing uninterested, Death waved out its skeleton hand out, summoning a portal open to where Jaune's dead body currently laid on the floor in the still dark night sky. And deprived of any warning, the Grim Reaper pushed Jaune out from the bench, forcing him and his soul back home before he could so much as argue.

Then the portal began to close slowly.

"Yea..." Ron eventually sighed, smiling sadly as Death hovered behind him as he got up to look out toward the portal where his friend's soul ventured. Holding the Lotus Blade, he stared miserably at the sword. "I knew that was too much to ask for—ugh!"

 _Push_!

Floating in the air, Ron's eyes widened, and he barely managed to turn around in midair and see Death wave him off as he went into the portal to Remnant, swearing for the rest of his life that the Grim Reaper was smiling at him through its eyes. Then the portal closed, sealing their fates.

Wondering what those two souls would have in store for it the next time they decided to die, or whenever it decided to visit them, the Grim Reaper willed away his trusty scythe, staring off to where the portal had been before allowing its attention to be drawn elsewhere.

Glancing down at the small bench where the two mortals had met, Death calmly disappeared into the floor, wondering for the first time if Fate or Destiny had something to do with all this.

A bench could only hold the respective person's soul and no one else, hence the relative small size. What were the odds that parallel souls would perish at the same point in time, and have the strength of will to challenge it—and _win_?

* * *

 **Author Notes:** I like to think of Jaune Arc and Ron Stoppable as the same person. They're goofy enough to be lovable and foolish enough to be fan favorites.


End file.
